


The Rebellious Duchess

by DarkPhoenixGoddess10



Category: The White Queen (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-16
Updated: 2015-02-22
Packaged: 2018-02-17 14:39:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2313122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkPhoenixGoddess10/pseuds/DarkPhoenixGoddess10
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She was known as the rebellious daughter of York PM Sir Richard Neville. As a teenager, she had declared herself an enemy to the royal family of York, particularly Prince Richard. As an adult, her recklessness caused a scandal and her banishment from York.</p><p>Who could've guessed this girl later on marry Prince Richard and eventually Queen of York?</p><p>A modern version of Richard and Anne in War of Roses.</p><p>And plots based on a prompt from James</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheAwesomeWriter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAwesomeWriter/gifts).



She felt light, and painless.

Life a feather, she ascended into the sky.

She must be dead.

In a beautiful white dress, she appeared before the gate of Heaven. Before the gate there stood a young man in a dark suit. Instantly, she recognized his face.

His face—which she hadn’t seen for over a decade.

“Edward!” She said and smiled. She was about to hug him, only to be stopped by his demeanor.

“So you came, at last,” he muttered. “Like what I’ve told you, we met again.”

His face showed no sign of happiness.

“Aren’t you happy to see me?” Anne asked, hurt by his indifference. “It had been so long.”

“For what?” He questioned.

“For seeing someone who cares for me and understands me,” Anne replied with tears. “Of all the people in my life, there’s only you. Our marriage…these four hundred and seventy-five days…are the happiest of my life.”

“Why is that?” He questioned again without warmth.

“All my life, I wanted to be a painter, living in a secluded, quiet life. When I paint, I’m happy. I never wanted to be a princess, let alone a queen,” she explained to him eagerly, as if Edward Lancaster mistakenly believed that she had betrayed him. “I am a bird trapped in a gilded cage. I’m happy to be reunited with you.”

“Truly?”

“Yes, how can you ever doubt that?”

“Are you even listening to yourself?” Edward asked. “Look back into your life, are you sure that you are ready to forfeit life and leave everything behind? You are not leaving anything precious behind?”

Anne looked back at him wordlessly.

“Let’s rewind and go back to the beginning,” Edward said to her while showing her a crystal ball. “We only see how it ends, but what’s more important is how it began…”

***

_Greenwich, Connecticut, 2009_

The phone rang endlessly.

The voicemail turned on: _Hi this is Anne Neville, an ordinary girl who wants to be a painter. Please leave a message or get a life!_                                                                        

“Anne, this is your mother,” a stern voice in a heavy Yorkish accent spoke from the other side of the line. “Please call us back and do yourself a favor, leave a nicer voicemail.”

A few minutes later, the phone rang again.

No answer.

The phone continued to ring incessantly, until a young man entered the house. He picked up the phone and answered.

“Hello?”

Just as he picked up the phone, the caller hung up.

Shaking his head, he went up to Anne’s room. Knocking on the door, he cheerfully greeted, “Mrs. Lancaster, this is Mr. Lancaster!”

No response.

Knowing his wife’s habits, Edward could only guess that she was in the middle of painting. Anne was always like that—whenever she was in the middle of her artwork, she did not want to be bothered. Once, Edward joked if the house caught on fire and she was painting, she’s probably ended up died in fire while painting. Anne only snorted at the joke, which worried Edward that one day she could really ended up as thus.

Quietly, he went downstairs to enjoy a cup of tea.

A few hours went by and finally, her door opened and she came down.

“You’re back,” she said carelessly. “When did you come back?”

“When you were working, I assume,” he replied. “How is Mrs. Lancaster’s artwork today?”

“A mess,” she said.

“Can I see it?”

“Not today,” she refused. “It’s not ready yet.”

Edward shrugged. Anne treated her paintings like her children—the process was like childbirth. It could be quick or prolonged; some products were pretty babies she loved to show off as a proud mother while others were ugly babies that she did not want to even look at. Edward found it fascinating, but also annoying.

“Your phone was ringing,” Edward changed the subject, pushing her cell phone towards her. “You want to check it out?”

Whenever Anne was painting, she did not want to be disturbed or distracted by any means. In her studio, it had nothing except for her art supplies. Anything that could cause distraction, such as her cell phone, was not allowed in her studio.

Anne looked through the call log and threw the phone aside. “Just as I expected, it was Mother.”

“You still haven’t told them about us?” Edward asked, a little hurt. “We are married now, and I think it’s not fair if you keep it from your family.”

“Allow me to remind you that this is United States of America where there’s freedom of speech,” Anne retorted. “And there’s Miranda Rights; even the most notorious criminal has the right to remain silent. I have my right to not to speak to my family from the other side of continent.” Then she added, “If you are looking forward to be the former PM of York’s son-in-law, you’d be disappointed. Cha-chin! Not happening!”

“Anne, I make my own money and I am not a fan of nepotism,” Edward said. “But as family, whatever the issues are, you have to stick to each other—“

“Ha! My family sure wasn’t sticking up for me,” Anne said as she cut the lettuce. “When I was at Middleham Academy, this snobbish prince was turning the whole school against me—all because my father’s shifted towards the liberals. The York royal family has every right to be insecure given that they are living off on the expenses of York citizen’s tax and they often do nothing in return. The King of York married a woman whose only quality is her looks. In a few years, she’d be a Joan Rivers. Anyway, I complained to the school master and to my father. Nothing. Until one day I had it, I punched that snobbish prince in the face and gave him a bloody nose.”

“Did you?” Edward laughed. “And what happened afterwards?”

“I got suspended and ended up being homeschooled,” Anne told him while chopping the lettuce harder and harder. “It was that bad. But at home, I spent a good amount of time painting. It helped me got accepted by Piers College of Art. Here no one knows who I am and everyone treats me as I deserve. Unlike in York, I’m always branded as a bad kid.”

“This prince, does he have a name?”

“Don’t,” Anne warned, pointing the kitchen knife at Edward’s nose. “His name gets on my nerve.”

“What is his name?” Edward was curious as ever.

“He shares the same name with my father,” Anne said.

“Richard?”

“No!” Anne yelled. “It’s Dickhead!”

“You are still mad at him?”

“Of course, I will never forgive him for making my life miserable!”

“But you are not miserable now,” Edward said as he embraced her from behind. “You are here with me and we are happy together. Actually, come think about it, we wouldn’t even met had it not been from this…Prince Dickhead. Had he not bullied you, you wouldn’t hit him. Had you not hit him, you wouldn’t be suspended. Had you not been suspended, you wouldn’t been homeschooled—“

“Okay, I get it. So?”

“So? Call your mother and speak to her. Tell her about us. Tell her how happy you are.”

***

_Middleham, York, 2009_

Lady Anne Beauchamp lied quietly on her boudoir. She called her daughter Anne almost twenty times.

No answer.

Frustrated, she called her older daughter, now Her Highness Duchess George of York.

“Yes?”

“Izzy, it’s your mother.”

“What is it?”

“You sister is not picking up the phone.”

“Mother, you know Annie. She’s probably painting.”

Lady Anne Beauchamp rolled her eyes again. Her daughter Anne and her painting were something she could not understand.

“Your sister needs to come back,” Lady Anne Beauchamp instructed her daughter. “Call her and tell her to come back. We need to be there to celebrate your father’s reelection as York’s PM.”

“Are you sure Annie will sit well with them?” Izzy was concerned about that. “She and Prince Richard…they had a history.”

“Past is the past,” Lady Anne Beauchamp insisted. “I know who the King was unhappy with your father’s political alliance with Lord Stanley and his wife Lady Margaret Beaufort and that you and George married secretly without telling him. But it is changed now. Your father is supporting the royal family again and the King has approved your marriage. The Queen Mother has told me this morning that you and George will sit next to Ned and his commoner queen. Now, you see how important it is for Annie to be there?”

“And where will she sit? Next to Prince Richard?”

“I doubt it,” Lady Anne Beauchamp shook her head. “Isn’t Prince Richard with that woman named Katherine?”

“I don’t know,” Isabel shook her head. “They were together and they had kids…but they don’t seem to be as together as much. George told me that Richard isn’t in love with her but he does care for his kids.” She paused and then added, “Becoming a father matured him a lot.”

“It’s good to hear that,” Lady Anne Beauchamp said. “Call your sister and tell her the good news of your father’s reelection. And then ask her to come back.”

“Permanently?”

“I hope so,” Lady Anne Beauchamp replied. “But knowing your sisters, she always has her own ideas and plans.”

***

_Greenwich, Connecticut, 2009_

On the balcony, Edward Lancaster poured two glasses of wines as Anne was inside speaking to her sister. Edward waited for nearly three hours before his wife joined him.

“Well?”

“Well what?” Anne shrugged. “It’s my sister, and she asks me to come home to York.”

“Your response?”

“It’s no,” she said determinedly. “I’m done with York. I’ve found a new life here.”

“Anne,” Edward Lancaster urged. “Don’t be childish. It’s your family and I’m sure that they miss you. Go, or else you’d regret it.”

After a long silence, Anne murmured, “If I go, I need to go alone.”

“You are not introducing me to your family?”

“I will, in the future,” Anne said. “When my father is completely retired from politics. It’s not going to be a pretty picture if you are part of the Neville family in York. Trust me, you do not want to be there.”

“What are you planning to do?”

“What do you mean?”

“You are up to something.”

“I’m not,” Anne said not too convincingly. “Excuse me, I need to go for a drive.”

***

Stepping on the gas pedal, Anne drove wildly. She really needed to cool off.

_Middleham Academy…_

_Prince Richard…_

_Suspension…_

Her life in York had truly been a dark past she wanted to forget. Now, she was going to relive it.

Edward Lancaster was correct—she did have a plan in mind.

It was risky.

Maybe it’d be too much.

Finally, she stopped.

Before her was a house of a gypsy psychic.

Maybe she should consult a psychic for her upcoming future?

Stepping out of the car, Anne went to the house and knocked on the door.

An old woman in her seventies answered the door and welcomed her in.

Anne paid her $50.00.

She wanted to know her future, where it lies and what the obstacles are.

The old woman examined her palm and told her, “You future will be intense. Life will not be easy.”

Anne held her breath and waited for her to continue.

“What are you seeing?”

“Your enemy…” the old woman muttered. “No, it’s not an enemy…a rival…no…” She stared into her palm harder and harder. Soon, she stopped and told Anne, “There will be a person—that person can be your greatest ally or your greatest enemy. It will be your own making.”

“That person…”

“Will be in your life until the end.”

The only person who could fit that profile was her father, Sir Richard Neville.

She thanked the old woman and left her place.

She knew what to do now, sort of.

Go back to York and make peace with her father.


	2. Chapter 2

Heading back to York wasn’t as easy as it was before.

Before marrying Edward Lancaster, Anne was a York citizen holding an American green card. Back then, she could hop back and forth between borders of US and York as often as she wanted with a plane ticket and a passport. After marrying Edward, Anne forfeited her York citizenship and became an American citizen sort of in secrecy. In the application, she filled her name as “Anne Lancaster” and thus did not attract any attention. Well, not many Americans were familiar with York or its famous people anyway.

She did not forfeit her York citizenship because of her distaste for the royal family or her painful past. The real reason was that York did not allow dual citizenships under any circumstances. From Anne’s perspective, since she’s already married an American and never wanted to go back to York, why not?

But now she was returning to York, which meant she needed to apply for visa.

She and Edward applied by mailing, which to Anne was safer.

She certainly did not want anyone from the York Embassy to know that their PM Richard Neville’s daughter was now a US citizen.

They may knew Anne Neville, but not Anne Lancaster.

That would not look good for her father’s reelection.

***

“You ready?” Edward asked as they entered JFK Airport.

“Yes,” Anne said with confidently. Maybe too confident.

“Are you sure?” Edward asked.

“Yes, I am sure,” Anne said insistently. “I will go see my Daddy, and introduce you to him and to my family. We will smile and pretend to be happy. After the whole fiasco of reelection and meeting the royal family, we fly back here. If they dare to do anything to us, they will have to answer to the US Marine—“

Before she could finish, Edward’s phone rang. “Hello?”

Then his facial expression changed. “Yes, this is he…wait what? What did my mother do again? She’s where? How could you let this happen? You know her condition…I am at an airport ready to fly in about…three hours! No…okay fine.”

He hung up in frustration.

“My mother, again,” he said to Anne, shaking his head. “Alzheimer at her age. She wondered off and was lost on the street for three days! Her nurse didn’t even know!”

Anne was in disbelief. “You need to find a new nurse for your mom.”

“The nurse said that my mother needs me.”

“Go,” Anne said. “I’ll go to York alone.”

“Are you sure?” Edward asked again. “You can go alone and be okay?”

“I will be fine. I’m a big girl,” Anne assured him.

“And remember that,” Edward told her. “You are not a kid so don’t act like one. Just be yourself and come back home in one piece. Stay out of trouble.”

“I’ll be fine,” Anne said again.

A kiss and he left to see his mother.

Edward’s mother Margaret Anjou was a woman with colorful personality. Anne liked her, but soon learned that she was diagnosed with Alzheimer despite only in her fifties. Always in a cheerful mood, but often lost and couldn’t recall who she is. Lancaster had hired a nurse for her, but it hardly worked out. Lancaster often got a call here and there about his mother. It was like taking care of a child.

Due to his mother’s condition, Lancaster couldn’t go to York with her.

Maybe it was for the better.

***

After eight hours of flying, Anne arrived to York.

She was exhausted and it did not feel like home at all.

Just as she had expected, her father did not come to welcome her home at the airport. Instead, he sent someone to take her home.

Anne got into the car and was relieved that her family wasn’t there. Isabel was married to George and now part of the royal family. Her mother never understood her and probably would go on and on about what “not” to do in the next few days. Her father was of course busy.

And she didn’t even know what to say to them.

After a drive that was too long and too short, Anne was home.

The mansion was actually a castle.

Once it belonged to a Duke; the house was old but it gave Anne a taste of magic and mystery. She remembered how she loved this house.

The house was the only thing that she missed after she left York.

“Anne!”

She turned and saw her mother standing not far away from her. Ann Beauchamp gave her an uneasy smile and opened her arms. Slowly Anne went to her mother and they hugged.

“Come inside,” Ann Beauchamp said. “We can have a cup of hot tea. Your father is eager to see you.”

“Daddy is home?” Anne could not believe it.

“Yes he is,” her mother said. “He missed you more than anyone. You do take after him and he says that all the time.”

“Wow, I’m so surprised.”

That was not sarcasm.

***

She entered the house and a sense of odd familiarity came to her. It was as if she finally returned to a place where she belonged. Her mother walked her to her father’s study. Anne watched as her father working at his desk. His hair had grayed much more since she left.

“Richard! Guess who’s here!” Ann Beauchamp announced cheerfully.

And that killed Anne’s good moment.

The name Richard…

Richard Neville rose from his seat and went to hug Anne. “Welcome home, Annie.”

She hugged her father back, working hard to tell herself that Prince Richard of York is not and never will be a man like her father, for he did not have the dignity, intelligence, charisma, and political acumen of Sir Richard Neville.

“Why don’t we sit and play chess?” He asked.

Playing chess was a special moment for the two of them.

***

Sir Richard Neville was the chess master.

Anne could be one too.

However, she felt intimidated by her father.

His face never betrayed any of his emotions.

Anne could never guess his next move.

“You need to make your move Annie,” Richard Neville said quietly. “Stalling time will not help you win.”

“I’m not stalling time,” Anne denied. “I’m taking time to decide what to do next.”

Her eyes were on the King and Queen.

“Do you think that it’s wrong for me to be PM again?” Her father asked suddenly.

“Why are you asking me that?” Anne was surprised.

“You are not answering my question.”

After a moment of silence, Anne replied, “No, I am not happy to see you as PM of York. Daddy, York is behind modern time with this…royal family. The King is rewarding the Woodville Queen’s family with posts in the government. The Woodville families are not saints. They gamble, appear on reality TV, and caused so much embarrassment for this country! And the King is tolerating that even though it’s marring his reputation. The only good one in that Woodville family is Jacquetta Bedford Woodville. At least she does something legit.” She leaned closer to her father and continued, “George _used_ Isabel. He married Isabel to get you to their side. We all know this so-called ‘reigning’ royal family will come to an end sooner or later. You were on the correct path, but now you switched. I think you changed to the wrong side.”

At the end of her tone, Richard Neville made a move and took her Queen.

“I have my reasons,” he muttered. “Isabel does love George and George is not that political. You know, of the three brothers, Richard is the one—“

“Richard! You have to say that name!” Anne became unhappy.

“That is my name too,” Richard Neville reminded her. “In case if you wonder, Richard has matured and grew into a wise man. He had been a good student. He is now a Duke.”

“It’s not the same as becoming a CEO,” Anne retorted. “I don’t know about his intelligence or maturity, but I do know about his fertility. Fathered two kids, a boy and a girl. Very impressive. So is he going to marry their mother or leave his children as bastards?”

“Anne,” Richard Neville showed his disapproval. “Be nice.”

“I am nice!” Anne said, taking Richard Neville’s horse. “I know that eventually I will have to meet the royal family and Richard! I promise you that I will not cause trouble! But I have not forgiven Richard for what he had done at the Middleham Academy and I never will!”

“Richard is very loyal to his brother King Edward,” Richard Neville explained nonchalantly. “He lost his father at a very young age. He looked up to his brother. The death of his father had left him shattered—“

“Then he should’ve sought counseling or better, being home schooled!” Anne was offended that her father was taking Richard’s side. “Since when it’s okay to bully people because of some Freudian excuses? What sense did it make to take it out on me because you were siding with Beaufort and Stanley?”

“And you had not done anything wrong?” Richard Neville questioned her.

“You mean that I punched him?” Anne said. “What’s exactly wrong for punching him in the face? He deserved it!”

“That was not the mistake.”

“Then what did I do wrong?”

“You let people seen you done it.”

Anne was out of words. She tried to focus on the checkers as her father changed his tone.

“Richard! It’s good to see you again.”

Anne turned around and could not believe what she saw.

Before her standing a young man about 5’8”. He had dark curls and dark eyes.

And very large.

Or rather obese with a round face and a round belly.

Anne could not believe her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you like this chapter.
> 
> Yes, Richard is fat as obese.
> 
> Comment please!


	3. Chapter 3

“Richard, it’s good that you’re here,” Richard Neville greeted him warmly. “You remember my daughter Anne. You two went to school together.”

“How can I forget,” Richard replied and smiled at Anne.

“Funny, I was about to say the same thing,” Anne retorted in an unfriendly tone.

“I have things to do, so Richard why don’t you take my place and finish the game?” Richard Neville offered and then left.

Richard took his seat and realigned his pieces; his were white and Anne’s were black.

The moment he sat down Anne could not take her eyes of his gigantic belly. It was if he was holding a big balloon on his lap. As he looked down at the checkerboard, his double-chin became triple. His hands and fingers were plump like the ones of The Penguin from “Batman”.

What happened?

Richard wasn’t fat at all back at Middleham Academy! He was lean and slightly muscular.

And when did he met this woman named Kate and fathered two kids?

Usually it was the mother who gained weight after having babies!

Anne thought about Kate. How large is she? Instantly, she compared Richard and Kate to Henry VIII of England and Queen Katherine Howard. The English King was so fat to the point that he couldn’t get out of the bed. How could Queen Katherine Howard, not even in her twenties, share his bed without disgust? It would’ve been much easier had Katherine Howard being a size 12 instead of size 0 as portrayed in “The Tudors”. Probably, it was the Queen who was on top riding the obese King and had to be extra careful not to touch his ulcer on the thigh.

Was that how Kate and Richard fathered kids?

Anne’s imaginations went wild.

She pictured Richard lying on his back and Kate climbing on top of him. Then, Richard became a large turkey and Kate, with a knife and a fork, began to eat—

Richard was thin back then, and Kate climbed on top to give him a blowjob. She took his manhood and blow…and Richard bloated up like a balloon…

Richard was lying on this back, and Kate climbed onto him completely naked. She, being small and thin, began to bounce on Richard’s fat belly like a trampoline. Seeing Kate bounces up and down…up and down…up and down…

Anne ended up chuckling and laughing.

In fact, she laughed so hard that her face was hot.

“What is so hilarious?” Richard asked, bewildered.

Anne laughed even harder upon hearing that.

“If you think playing funny can help you win this game,” Richard began. “Then you are wrong. If you want to win the game, you got to play wisely; not strangely.”

Catching up with her breath, Anne ask, “How did this happen?”

“That you are losing?”

“No! How did you become…this…”

“Fat?” Richard finished her sentence.

Clearing her throat, Anne stopped laughing and said, “I believe in divine punishment.”

“What?” Richard raised an eyebrow.

“Divine punishment – that God is just and fair,” Anne continued. “You see, back in Middleham Academy, God has been watching your actions. As result, he passed his judgment and made the way you are the way you are.”

Obviously, she was referring to his weight gain.

“Indeed,” Richard agreed without a hesitation. “I am now a graduate from Oxford University and now studying politics under the mentorship of your father, who has now cleared his senses and rejoined our side, which is the right thing to do. So you are 100% correct, God is just and fair without a doubt.” He looked up at her and asked, “How’s life for you? Where did you go to college?”

Anne’s anger flared upon hearing that. “You went to Oxford…how impressive. What did you do? Asking my Dad for a recommendation, giving His Royal Highness Prince William of Britain a call and then having a cup of tea with the Queen…and boom! Welcome to Oxford!”

“Prince William didn’t go to Oxford,” Richard reminded her. “They didn’t even know my real identity when I applied. They were impressed with my application essay.”

“Penned by you or did you asked some connections to revise it for you?”

“I did it all on my own,” Richard replied nonchalantly. “You went to school in US, so I assume you went to Yale or Princeton or Harvard?”

Anne bit her lips. “No, but there are other ways to fulfill life than going to top schools.”

They spoke no more and continued with the game.

In the end, Richard won.

Anne stood and folded her arms. “It’s getting late and I’m tired. To be honest, it’s _not_ good to see you again. Now will you excuse me, I need to get some rest. Why don’t you go home and drink some tea, hopefully it’s weight-loss tea.”

She turned around with her head high and marched out of her father’s office suite.

And yet, when she got to her room, she found everything changed.

Her bed set was different; her furniture changed; the decorations were gone. In fact, it wasn’t even a girl’s room.

Behind her, a person cleared his throat; it was Richard.

“Excuse me, what are you doing in my room?”

Anne could not believe what she had just heard.

***

“What in the world has happened?” Anne demanded as she stormed out of her room, or rather her old room. She went straight to her mother’s suite to speak to her. She was so upset that she didn’t even notice her sister Isabel was there.

“Mother!” Anne said with her face twisted in anger. “Richard is in my room and saying that it’s his. You tell him to get the hell out of this house and do not ever come back again!”

Anne Beauchamp looked at her strangely, and Isabel looked at her mother. “Mom, you didn’t tell her?”

“Oh hi Izzy!” Anne gave Isabel a smile, then her face resumed its angry look. “Mother! I cannot believe you gave my room to Richard! You know how much that room meant to me! Plus, where am I going to sleep in this house? Richard is a royal prince and I am very sure his brother the King can find him a bed anywhere in this country. So can you please tell Richard to pack his things and leave?”

“No,” Anne Beauchamp replied simply. “I cannot do that.”

“What do you mean no?” Anne demanded. “Richard is not a member of this family! He doesn’t live here!”

“Yes he does,” Richard Neville answered behind her. He walked to the boudoir and joined his wife and his older daughter. “Richard is studying political science under my mentorship. I am offering him a place to stay _because_ he needs to develop a mind of his own.”

“What?” Anne was clueless what her father meant.

“As I’ve told you, Richard is a boy with great potential,” Richard Neville said. “But I don’t think he can go anywhere with his career is he stays with his family. The Woodvilles and being a royal prince are distractions. Here, he is living like a civilian and think what he can do for this country as a York citizen, not as a royal prince.”

“But why my room?”

“Because that’s his choice,” Richard Neville replied. “He likes the location; and the view from the window especially during sun rise.”

That was the exact reason why Anne loved her room.

“And where am I going to sleep?”

“You can move into Izzy’s room,” Anne Beauchamp said.

“But what about my bed?” Anne asked. “Can I have my bed back?”

Her father, mother, and sister looked at her with a blank face.

“That bed means so much to me,” Anne said, not knowing why she should even explain. “I’m the one who designed it. I’m the one who decorated it. It is a part of my life! I don’t want him to sleep in it!”

***

Isabel came to her old room and watched as Anne unpacked her things.

“Annie,” Isabel stopped there and didn’t know what to say to her sister. No, they were not moving her bed and so Anne was going to sleep in Isabel’s old bed while Richard sleeps in hers. “I think you should let it go.”

“Let what go?” Anne snorted. “I got kicked out of the school unfairly because of him! I ended up being homeschooled. The only comfort from being homeschooled is that it gave me time and space to find my gifts and love. I designed that bed after reading _Odyssey._ Odysseus built his marital bed for Penelope and it was through that secret Penelope knew it was him for sure after he went on a voyage for twenty years. Now he is sleeping in it.”

Anne’s bed was a combination of artwork and furniture. It was a four poster-bed with each poster designed like a willow tree, with the roots spread out on the floor.

Isabel laughed. “Come think of it, it’s more like you went on an odyssey and he is here waiting for you. Maybe…you are his Odysseus and he is your Penelope.”

“Not in a million years!” Anne objected. “By the way, what is up with Richard and his girlfriend anyway? Are they getting married or what?”

“No idea,” Isabel shrugged. “His mother certainly wanted to see him settling down. But his heart is not in it, or maybe he doesn’t love her enough to marry her.”

“Then he should’ve thought of that when he was bedding her,” Anne said. “Two kids and no marriage…I pity these poor children…growing up in such an awkward status. They are going to have such a hard time in school, as Prince Richard’s bastard children.”

“Annie, it’s the 21st century,” Isabel said. “We don’t use that word anymore.”

The word “bastard”.

“So how have you been?” Isabel asked, changing the subject. “Are you all good in US? Seeing anyone?”

“No,” Anne lied after a long hesitation. She could not tell anyone that she is married.

Not now.

“Don’t you think it’s a sign?” Isabel asked. “You and Richard—“

“Izzy, please don’t put me and Richard together,” Anne said. “All I want to do is to swing a bat at him and knock him on the ground.”

“He has changed, and grown,” Isabel said. “He’s not the same as he was before.”

“That part is true, literally.”

***

Whether she liked it or not, she and Richard would be living under the safe roof.

But that was okay, given that Anne would be leaving as soon as the gala of her father’s reelection is over. By then, she would tell her father that she’s happily married to an American guy and she’s happy with her new life. She was anxious on how her father would’ve reacted, since he’d know that she had given up her York citizenship.

At the breakfast table, she stared into the coffee cup added more cream into it.

“Annie, is there something on your mind?” Her mother asked.

“Oh, it’s about the gala,” Anne replied. “It’s upcoming and I don’t know what I’d wear.”

“It’s not a problem,” Anne Beauchamp said. “The Queen Mother has the best fashion sense, and she is inviting you over to the palace.”

“What?” Anne was surprised. “Do I have to go?”

“Yes,” Her father answered. “The Queen Mother is a very kind woman, with great intellectual mind.”

_Pity none of her sons inherited her intelligence!_

“Do we have any croissant this morning?” Anne asked, changing the subject.

“No,” Richard answered, taking a seat next to hers, and eating a croissant. “This is the last one.”

Needless to say, Anne could not find him any less annoying to have around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments please :)


	4. Chapter 4

“Anne! Anne! Anne!”

Rubbing her eyes, Anne was not fully awake as her mother and sister came to her room.

“Anne! We need to get you prepared,” Anne Beauchamp said eagerly as Isabel pulled her up. “There is an event tonight.”

“What event?” Anne mumbled.

“Tonight there’s a charity event,” Anne Beauchamp said. “We need to get you all dolled up!”

“Do I have to go?” Anne protested unhappily. “I just need to attend Dad’s reelection gala, that’s all.”

She them threw her blanket over her head and lied down again.

“Annie! We need you!” Anne Beauchamp insisted. “I am hosting this charity event, and we need to be there as a family.”

“Mother, the more you talked the more you sound like Kris Jenner!”

Anne Beauchamp was a little offended.

“Anne, I have worked for months of preparation for tonight and do you have any idea how happy I am to know that you are coming back in time for it? I want you to be there because I love you and you are important to me.”

“If you do love me, then you would’ve stand with me when Richard turned the school against me!” Anne retorted. “Not only you didn’t speak for me, you also take him in and gave him my room and my bed!”

Anne Beauchamp stood in silence for a while. Then folding her arms, she said, “You are going to get dressed and attend my charity event tonight. And that is it. Please behave yourself since some important individuals are going to be there. As for your history with Richard, you need to get over it because it’s getting old.”

She turned her heels and marched out of her room.

Anne looked at Isabel, who looked back at her.

“Okay, let’s work on the dress first, shall we?”

***

“Annie,” Isabel came into her room with a few dresses in hand. Anne ignored her; busying with her pencil sketches. “Don’t be like this.”

“Then be like what?” Anne said nonchalantly.

“Now what is this?” Isabel asked, referring to her drawing. “You…on a torturous rack?”

“This is how I feel,” Anne said. “I am being forced to do what I do not want to do. I am here to make peace with my family. But no, I have to put on a dress to attend a much publicized charity event with a face of a Stepford smiler. Does anyone care how I felt and what I went through? Since when bullying is right?”

“So it’s not right,” Isabel sat. “But what can you do now? The past is the past.”

“You are taking his side?”

“No, I am on your side,” Isabel said. “I married George because I love him. And you are still my sister. If you are not coming to tonight, then you’d know that mother is going to go on and on about it. Why don’t you take it as a night of girls out? You and me dressing up together and have fun.”

“What about George? Aren’t you going to be with him?”

“George is not coming,” Isabel replied.

“What?” Anne looked up. “That’s surprising to hear.”

“It’s another story,” Isabel lost her smile. “I’ll tell you at another time.” Then she changed the subject. “How about it? We get ready together and have fun tonight.”

Anne shrugged. “Fine.”

***

The limousine arrived before a large, fancy hotel. The door was opened and two ladies stepped out. They were almost the same height. Cameras flashed around them and the two poised for their picture. Afterwards, hand in hand they went in.

“You did well, Annie,” Isabel said after they entered the hotel.

“My feet hurt,” Anne complained.

When getting ready, Anne wore high heels and Isabel wore flats to match their heights. Isabel wore a blue gown and Anne wore a green one. Looking at her sister, Isabel was a little jealous. While dressing casually, Anne was just an ordinary girl next door. However, once dolled up, she was breathtakingly beautiful. In other words, Anne would be a typical client that most makeup artists love to have.

The Neville girls saw their mother in the ballroom and they went to greet her.

Anne hugged her mother, who whispered in her ear, “Behave yourself.”

Without a word, Anne pulled away and went to get something to drink.

She looked around and found all guests and attendees were strangers to her.

“Miss Neville,” a woman with thin long face came to speak to her. “I don’t believe we have met, but I have heard a lot about you. I’m Margaret Beaufort.”

Anne shook hands with her.

“My husband Sir Thomas Stanley worked with your father,” Margaret Beaufort continued. “Before your father changed side, of course. I have to say as much as I admire your father, I do believe he is going down the wrong path. How is your life in America? Good?”

“It’s fine,” Anne smiled.

“My son is also in United States,” Margaret Beaufort told her. “He is attending Choate Rosemary Hall. I want him to be groomed with right mind set.”

“Right mind set?”

“The US government is nowhere near perfect, but it is a government of the 21st century,” Margaret Beaufort said. “Monarchy is outdated; it is just there to absorb money from the people. Sooner or later it will end. And I know that one day, my boy Henry will be the George Washington of York.”

“As long as he’s not becoming a Robespierre,” Anne replied.

“Oh no he will not be!” Margaret Beaufort exclaimed. “He knows the right thing to do. Anyway, it’s so good to see you. I have to say that I admire your courage to stand up for yourself. If I were to hate someone, I wouldn’t just punch him in the nose. I’d make sure his head is rotten on a spike!”

The more she talked, the more Anne felt uncomfortable.

She walked away from Margaret Beaufort and Isabel pulled her aside.

“Annie! You have to be careful with that woman,” Isabel whispered. “She is sly.”

“She said that her husband used to work with our father.”

“Yes, and that is in the past,” Isabel said with a lowered voice. “Her husband Sir Thomas Stanley is the one setting in the Parliament, but it is _she_ who’s taking charge.”

“She is not a fan of the royal family, isn’t she?”

“Of course not,” Isabel replied. “She hates the Queen and she’s a bit delusional.”

“You don’t say,” Anne muttered.

She turned and bumped into another person. Her wine spilled onto his tuxedo.

“Thank you very much!” A young man, about sixteen, spat angrily.

“I apologize,” Anne rolled her eyes.

“You apologize?” The young man refused to let it go.

“Tom,” a calm voice spoke behind him. “Let it go.”

The young man, Tom, grumpily left the scene.

Anne found herself face to face with the person she liked the least—Richard.

“You are not thanking me for saving you?” Richard remarked.

“Thank you for what?” Anne shrugged. “It was an accident, and who in the world is he anyway?”

“Thomas Grey,” Richard told her. “My brother Edward’s stepson.”

“No wonder,” Anne mumbled. “Why are you here?”

“I was invited,” Richard said. “And to make sure that you don’t cause trouble.”

“I am not a troublemaker!” Anne said, raising her voice—which caused everyone at the gala to look at her; everyone was silent for a moment.

“Excuse me,” Richard said politely, breaking the awkward silence. He pulled Anne away and walked her out of the ballroom.

***

“I think we have a conversation long overdue,” Richard said after they were alone in the lobby area.

“Yes, indeed,” Anne said, fuming. “Let’s start with you. You turned the school against me; spread rumors about me; calling me _traitor’s daughter_. And even worse, you ordered everyone in class to ignore me and not to talk to me. Because of what? Because of my father switched sides in parliament?”

“And you retaliated.”

“Which got _me_ suspended,” Anne continued. “I ended up homeschooled even though it was your fault. It was as if you are His Highness Prince Richard who has the privilege to do whatever you like. The only comfort was that I don’t have to see you again. But no, when I came home from US, here you are again—in my room and my bed! Now, I am not a troublemaker. I don’t cause trouble. It is _you_ who’s causing trouble!”

“Are you done?”

“No!” Anne folded her arms. “I will be done if you were to move out of our mansion. I want you out of my sight forever and ever! At least, until I return home to US.”

“You are not staying here permanently?” He raised an eyebrow.

“No,” Anne shook her head. “As soon as my father’s reelection gala’s over, I’m out of here. That should make us both happy.”

“Wait,” Richard stopped her before she could turn to leave. “You are 100% sure that you are not staying here?”

“Why should I? I’m only been home for two days, and I have enough people around me who are either two-face or nasty snobs! I am happy in US. If I want to laugh, cry, or curse, I can because it’s my will and no one can take that away from me.”

That made her miss her husband Edward. Suddenly she felt so lonely.

What in the world was she doing here?

She walked away from Richard and back into the hotel.

She grabbed another glass of red wine.

A middle-aged man, bald with a thick beard, greeted her with a smile. “Evening Miss Neville. What are you having?”

“Blood,” Anne replied.

_Who cares what he thinks? It’s my life and I do or say whatever I want._

**Author's Note:**

> Comments please!


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